


Untitled

by Scribe



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-31
Updated: 2009-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-05 13:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe/pseuds/Scribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vaguely future snippet written for Vensre, who wanted Merlin and Gwen being best friends</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

Gwen did return to her home eventually, although she still spent more nights in Morgana's chambers than not. That was how it started. Merlin didn't like to think of her alone in the house with the ghost of her father, far from the comfort she insisted she didn't need. For someone who spends so much time mixing and measuring, Gaius is a terrible cook, he said the first time, with Gwen stumbling over her surprise at finding him on her doorstep. I thought we could work out a trade.

It was quite a good trade, as it turned out. Gwen would make dinner that wasn't always stew and afterward he would pull her to nestle between his legs, back to his chest and hair over one shoulder, out of the way. Merlin's long fingers were surprisingly strong. Sometimes he leaned his head back against the wall and found the sore spots by touch, ridges and knots that clustered around Gwen's shoulders and down either side of her spine, invisible under smooth skin. They started out talking, often as not, but as he eased away tension Gwen would begin to drowse, head relaxing back onto Merlin's shoulder and eyes drifting shut. Those were Merlin's favorite moments. He didn't care what the others thought they were doing; there was peace there, in the small, quiet home, in Gwen's soft murmurs when he pressed too hard and the tickle of her curls against cheek.

Years later he would create light shows for her in those moments, conjure tiny winged horses and visions of Arthur in ridiculous hats, or write her name in glowing calligraphy as she leaned against him. With Morgana he fought, both for and against, and sometimes without knowing which. With Arthur he called down the sky, called up the sea, spoke to the earth and protected and killed with no more than a glance and a wish in his heart. Gwen was always different. With Gwen he only called the fire's warmth into his fingertips as he soothed away the weight of the crown, for she alone had never feared him.


End file.
